


a prisoner of history, waiting for you to come asking me

by reinacadeea



Series: Football AU [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, footballers au, other recognisable 1d and radio 1 people, the lads - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinacadeea/pseuds/reinacadeea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Harry is a young promising footballer and Nick is a passionate fashion journalist who hasn’t quite figured out how to be anything but single. Naturally, they meet and fall in love.<br/>The Thomas Müller/football AU no one asked for, but I wrote anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a prisoner of history, waiting for you to come asking me

**Author's Note:**

> The World Cup was upon us all this summer and I like the rest of my football-crazed family was caught in constant amazement. Most of my dad's family works or has worked in football, so I've been wanting to write about it for ages as it is a subject close to my heart. All additional info concerning the world of football is purely my own experience and having listened in on an extensive amount of my dad's important phone calls.

Interlude 

\- 

The roar of the crowds and the chorus of 'Moves Like Hazza' ring in his ears days after his big debut. He's had people noticing his talent for years, but nothing quite rings as true as proof. He feels completely confident for the first time in years, knows that nothing will ever be as good as that - the red jersey even though it's not Man U. But that's old news and Arsenal is the present. 

No one has the moves like Hazza, Gemma sings in the taxi and Niall and Liam joins in and Harry blushes. 

It makes him confident and careless at the club. He's not really supposed to drink and he only has a beer, but he's high on adrenaline and that's the best drug of them all. 

He meets Nick when he stumbles out of the girls’ restroom with someone with very orange hair. He's so impressed, mostly with the speed Nick seems to be talking in, but also the way his eyes sparkles and his quiff droops until it's swept back with long elegant fingers. 

"I'm Harry," he's introduced himself before he thinks it through. 

Slender fingers grace his hand and he feels the familiar thug of attraction. "I'm Nick and that bad bitch over there is Aimee," the quiff says, bobbing up and down with every excited move. 

"You have nice eyes," Harry finds himself saying and is slightly mortified afterwards. 

"I think you should buy me a drink first," Nick grins. 

"And another one for the entourage, thanks," Aimee remarks with a slightly accented American twang. 

"Of course," Harry nods seriously. 

He takes Nick home and they shag the night away until Harry's alarm clock tells him he's got an hour until post-match briefings at eleven. Nick snores at his side and Louis' banging around in the kitchen. 

"Niall says you've got a bloke in there," Louis shouts and Nick shoots awake disoriented. "Paul's going to kill you if you're late!" 

"Sorry," Harry tells Nick with a shrug. "I've got to get up." 

Nick takes it well and chats away about Dolly Parton of all things. Louis stares at him like he's insane and if Nick hadn't pressed Harry into the bed that night he might've thought so too. As it is, he shyly gives Nick his number and hopes it's been more than just a shag. 

\-- 

 

\-- 

Alexa's dragged them all to a pub on a Saturday, which is unheard of, but she says she's nostalgic and Nick is feeling like being nostalgic. His deadline is not until Monday anyway. Three glasses of some sort of discount wine later, he's pretty sure he's hallucinating when he sees the curly-haired bloke from that night last week wearing the Arsenal jersey on telly. 

'Spotlight,' the screen says. 'Harry Styles, February 1st, 1994. Striker, Arsenal FC. 2 professional matches and 10 games for the Under 19 team for England. Born in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.' 

"Are you joking?" He mutters to himself and swipes his phone open, deftly going to the conversation he's had running with Harry since he left his flat. 

Harry is charming in a 'I'm more than a mate' sort of way, a mate that Nick could maybe sort of fancy. He's fit, a fantastic kisser, maybe a bit young - seventeen is maybe too young, even for Nick. A young fit footballer is not at all something Nick has ever gone for before (though he had Becks on his wall, like every Northern boy his generation). Harry hasn't even indicated what he does, though Paul has an awful lot to say about how his day works. 

Yorkshire pudding is the best, is the last thing Harry's written, only an hour earlier with Nick's reply being an emoticon heart and the word pudding afterwards. 

You're on telly, Nick writes him and forgets all about it until a part of the pub erupts into cheers while another part shoots them evil looks. Naturally, Nick is drawn to the television screen where Harry's excited face is turned towards the Arsenal's home corner cheering and the thousands of fans cheering right back at him. 

"Oh my God, he scored!" Nick say surprised and Alexa and Henry give him an unimpressed look. He only understands football as far as his father tried to cram into his head before giving up in a huff at age twenty-five. But even he can see that the goal that Harry got through (defence? Offside? Something like that...) is better than your average ball in goal sort of thing. "He's really talented and everything," he says surprised. 

"What are you talking about, Grimmy?" Henry says. 

"Uh nothing," Nick pouts and checks his phone, knowing objectively that Harry can't reply while he's off scoring goals for Arsenal on telly. 

Harry doesn't reply before well after midnight and after Nick's gotten well drunk at the Groucho Club. He asks if it's a problem and Nick can't think of a single reason why it could ever be a problem at that exact moment. 

\-- 

Harry's not long off eighteen when they first start up their thing and Nick gets invited up to Holmes Chapel to meet with mothers and sisters. Anne's lovely and Gemma's lovely and Harry's lovely and Nick feels appreciated. Everything is perfect - except for that one last thing that makes all the difference. 

There is no gay in football and though Harry looks guilty as hell every time he shows up on Nick's doorstop after another match and every time he can't grasp Nick's hand in his when they get the groceries or have an early night out with his friends. Nick has never had a serious relationship in his life and is certainly not having it with a seventeen year-old, but even he has to admit he's become attached. So he plays the act of dutiful friend, dragging first a very disinterested Aimee along to home games until Finchy the Editor almost volunteers after meeting Harry at Nick's one evening. 

Suddenly, Nick spends a night each week while the Premiere League is in season watching footy. He watches as Harry gets better and how he's almost guaranteed at least twenty minutes at the end of a game if Arsenal needs to put an extra offensive element into the game. 

Nick is no stranger to the life of the photographed and beloved in a very cult sort of way, having cultivated friendships with half of Primrose Hill before having any sort of money to actually live there. He works for several fashion magazines, as a writer and as go-to entertainment. He's the person Elle sends out to inspect if a new model is as interesting as they make themselves out to be. He is sometimes the reason models come work for some magazines. He's got a voice in his niche world, constantly photographed behind Kate Moss or other up and coming fashionable people. 

The sports world is a completely different world, yet it works in some ways exactly the same. It's always about friends and everyone loves Harry, so in that way Nick is accepted around some of the lads. It doesn't matter that the footballers thinks he's pretentious and taking advantage of Harry's money, because he's not, and within ten minutes of them actually talking to Nick they usually like him. 

Nick's friends are sure he's lost his mind, suddenly becoming a 'lad' or having a 'laddy' friend, but the point of the matter is that Nick might be a tad smitten if he’s being honest. 

\- 

A footballer's life is thirty percent their own. Their diet and weeks are dictated by the game and only a small part of the decisions are theirs. Match day is a fact and you can't just take a day off because you feel like it. You can't drink, which means that suddenly Nick chooses to cut down on his alcohol-related activities so Harry can spend more time with him. It's slightly different, but not at all something that Nick hates. 

Harry gets sold in the next transfer window to another country. Granted, it's only the Netherlands, but Nick's never had an honest to god boyfriend before, so it's a bit of a blow. Ajax is the top club in the Netherlands and they are not afraid to give younger players play time. Harry gets to start in - Nick, Anne and Des cheering on the sideline - which is such an important part of developing a young player. Strikers doesn't often get entire games, because the managers play a game of 'wild cards', meaning strikers are different and can give the needed spice to a dying game. But to be in the starting eleven is a huge compliment and is a testament to how hard Harry's working. 

Nick didn't use to know all of these things, but Harry tells him in the dead of the night when it's just the two of them, no outside interference. Harry's scared of not being good enough, of disappointing his father who has been absent most of his life, but has become too invested now that Harry's whatever every father wishes their son to be. Nick thinks that Harry is so busy trying to please everybody else that he forgets sometimes that it's all right to say no. 

The most difficult part is that Harry wants so much. He wants to win the European Under 21 Cup with Louis, Liam and Zayn. He wants to be the most scoring striker in the Premier League. And he wants to go to Brazil in 2014. Nick doesn't fit into that picture. Nick is his mate that visits him, his mouthy queer mate that Harry shouldn't be friends with. He's not one of those WAGs and he never will be - except that he is. He's just not allowed to say anything to anyone. 

Apart from Nick and Harry themselves, Pete Grimshaw is the one who feels their secret relationship the keenest. He's so dead proud that Nick came home with a footballer - adamant that Nick's finally done something right for once. He wants to tell everyone, but everyone can't know. The year that Harry contractually has in Ajax turns into two, until he goes on loan to Atlético Madrid for half a year, which is finally where people start taking notice. They've always taken notice, but Nick can feel it in the air as Harry's kick reduces the 1-1 against Bayern Munich in the Champions League semi-final. They might lose but Harry didn't. 

He's at the top of his game with Nick seeing red and white Atlético jerseys popping up around. It's been a while since England has had a successful striker of off the British Isles, which serves to make Nick even more proud seeing Harry's hard work pay off so obviously. 

Their relationship is fragmented and hard and more often than not Nick has to be the one to relent and be the supportive one. He knows that Harry hates that he can't be whatever perception of himself that he thinks Nick wants him to be. But Nick doesn't mind. There is fashion in Europe too and Madrid is a culturally diverse city that he's grown to love. He makes fast friends with all the right people, both at Harry's club and in the industry. That's the best part of his job - the fact that it's very accommodating to travelling. Although he misses his friends, London, his Primrose Hill flat he wouldn't trade it for the sheer adventure his relationship with a footballer has given. 

\- 

He's visiting home when England plays their final group game in the European Championship in Ukraine. His dad's is all decked out in England colours and wearing the jersey that Harry got him for his birthday last year. It says Styles in big letters, 17 underneath it, and Pete absolutely loves the bloody thing. 

"I'm not bothered," Nick tells his mum an hour before kick-off. "I swear I'm not bothered." 

He's never cared about football before he had something to get invested in. He lives and breathes football the same way Harry does now, because it's almost impossible not to. 

Harry doesn't start in, but there is a collective cheer when he starts the second half though and he does well, kicking England's offensive into gear and helps score the winning goal. But in overtime he falls - he just falls and doesn't get back up. 

"Oh no," Nick mutters devastated and watches Harry's wrecked face as they carry him out off the pitch. 

"It doesn't look good," the commentator says and Nick feels like he's going to throw up. 

He waits an hour, listens to the commentators speculate, until a text filters through to his phone. "The doctors think it's his cruciate ligament," Nick says with a wince. 

"Oh dear," his mother says. "That's a terrible injury, isn't it?" 

Pete says yes and goes into detail about players who has thorn their ligaments and Nick wishes deep down inside that it's not Harry they will be talking about. He wishes that Harry will bounce back up and he tells Harry so. 

Harry is crying in a hospital bed in a different country, high on medication and self-pity. Nick wants to fly out immediately, hold and cuddle him. 

"You'll be alright, luv," he says softly and Harry sniffles and tells Nick he loves him and he wants him. He wants to be home and he wants to practice and play. "I'll pick you up at the airport," he tells him. "I'll drive down from Oldham tonight and I'll be there when you touch down." 

\- 

Harry has had injuries before, smaller ones and that one time he didn't train his back muscles enough and his born back distortion started giving him trouble, but it's nothing like the painful and humiliating treatment he goes through now. He depends on Nick and Gemma. Even Anne comes down to make sure he takes care of himself, bringing the patience and softness that only a mother can give. 

Nick tries to be patient, to help in any way he can, but Harry's not having it. One night he shouts and shouts about everything he hates about himself - how he can never have a normal relationship out in the open, how he will never be good enough to return to the national team. 

Nick leaves his house then, the house Harry gave him as a present - their house in reality - and takes a taxi to Aimee's. It's his turn to cry then, because he wants to give up. He's never wanted anything more than Harry in his life, but he hates the secrecy, hates that he can't be loved in public. He can't leave Harry, not while he's hurting, but he wants to be loved too in a way that Harry can't. Maybe when he's thirty-five and can no longer enter the pitch... Nick will be forty-five. 

"You have to think about all the happiness he gives you," Aimee says softly. "I get that it's hard, but are you really ready to give him up?" 

"No, probably never," Nick says honestly. "I have to be honest with him, don't I?" 

"Honesty is key to any relationship," she answers him truthfully and he feels a sinking realisation in his stomach. 

He expects it to go away when he eventually goes back to Harry, but Harry is irritable and tired from working out and he's not greeted with any sort of kindness. They sleep in the same bed, but there is a distance there that hasn't been before. Nick doesn't ever remember feeling so distant from him before and they've had a long-distance relationship since Harry moved clubs to the mainland. 

In the morning, Nick packs a bag silently, picking Harry's jumpers out amongst their extensive amounts of clothes and putting them away. He doesn't want anything of Harry's right now. 

"I know you're awake," he says to the lump in the bed. 

"Why are you leaving?" Harry's voice is so low that Nick can barely hear him. 

"Because I need to," Nick says softly. He sits down on the bed beside Harry and shakes his shoulder until he turns to face Nick. 

Harry's eyes are bloodshot, cheeks an angry red and his mouth curved downward. 

"I'll be at Aimee's," Nick says. "Call me when you've done feeling sorry for yourself." 

Harry doesn't call after him. 

\- 

The next two weeks are terrible. Nick feels everything much more keenly. He's sad and easy to anger, so he ends up throwing himself into work, accepting a spontaneous trip to NYC with Henry because he needs to be as far away from London - and by extension Harry - as possible. He tells Louis where he's gone, knowing he will blab to Harry in seconds. 

He gets to see Alexa and Pixie who has been helping with Peaches' kids. Alexa seems busy and content with her life and her new boyfriend while Pixie is clearly still struggling with her sister's death. Nick's own struggling relationship seems much less important compared to that. 

Alexa takes her time though, after Pixie's gone to put the kids to bed, to talk to Nick about everything. She's known about their relationship since its humble beginnings and she's been mostly supportive. She's gone to her fair share of games with hangovers and played the dutiful part of rumoured girlfriend to Harry a couple of times. She's not always agreed on the secrecy, says that Nick deserves better, but even she admits she likes to see Nick happy. 

"Will you go back to him?" She asks and he nods. "Even though he's not apologised or anything?" 

"We've been together for nearly three years," he tells her. "I can't just throw it away." 

Meanwhile, Sports Updates on Twitter keeps him updated on Harry's whereabouts; about the night out with Niall, the other night out with Kelly Osbourne and Pals and the most talked about, the wild and highly publicised visit to first Taylor Swift's concert and the next day her London home. 

The last one is the one that matter. Nick adores Niall, knows he more than most has tried to shake Harry out of his depression. Kelly's lovely and she would never do anything to put Harry's career in jeopardy. Taylor though is a wildcard he doesn't understand. Harry has never once shown any sort of interest in anything that wasn't Nick, other than the mostly laddy talk that he's forced to endure. 

He's certainly not shown any sort of interest in Taylor Swift of all people. 

Liam writes Nick a pitiful text, saying he needs him to take Harry back, that he's been insolent and completely childish. And he nearly calls several times. Ever since they first saw each other at that bar so long ago, they've been in constant contact - even when they were in different countries. He doesn't even remember the last time it's been more than a couple of days where they just didn't communicate. 

He knows that the press talks and that Harry has been somewhat of a darling ever since he got introduced into Nick's circle of interesting friends, but the level of attention his supposed affair with Taylor garners is absolutely ridiculous. 

He doesn't return Harry's call when he finally calls... 

\- 

Harry misses the Under 21 championships and the end of his contract with Ajax approaches. He dutifully returns to the Netherlands to watch his team and Nick tries so hard to ignore everything. But he watches all the games on Sky Sports and he sees Harry's face. It's so evident that Harry is miserable, but for the first time Nick feels betrayed and he just doesn't want to help put a smile on Harry's lips. 

Anne knows something is wrong, especially when she calls to have a chat like they do every Thursday and Nick hasn't talked to Harry in two weeks. He tactfully avoids talking about everything other than work and the amazing new article he gets to write, before begging off to go to a meeting. She calls off with love and hopes he's doing alright. He somehow feels like he's betraying her. He has seen Anne shout herself hoarse at Des, stood between the feuding parents as Harry sat with his hands clenched so tight that Nick couldn't feel his fingers afterwards. 

It's terrible seeing someone care more about what you do than who you are. 

Alexa's three bedroom apartment in London sits empty while she mainly works in New York. Nick moves in one Wednesday afternoon, after having picked up the majority of his clothes from Harry's Hampstead Heath house. He's packed up his mobile home office and set up office in Alexa's kitchen instead. It's nothing like the grandiosely-outfitted office space he has left behind or the chair that is molded to his back. 

He misses Harry more than the office chair, but with Harry back in Ajax, tentatively restarting his training (which is completely out of Harry's control and stated very firmly in his contract,) Nick can't at the moment hold it against him. He has spent three years not holding Harry's career against him, breaking up or whatever they currently are won't change that. 

\- 

A month after the faithful day, Nick makes a decision and sticks with it. Harry has called and written plenty of apologies, but it's not until he returned to England for Gemma's birthday that the true state of their relationship has really sunk in. 

Why are you not at home? 

The message comes in the middle of the night and Nick, having descended into one of his writing moods, sees it instantly. 

I think I've moved out, Nick replies and run a hand through his hair. The article lies forgotten after that while he waits for some kind of reply that never comes. 

The next morning, Harry's wild night out is widely documented on newspaper stands and on social media, having caused quite a stir at a hen party at Chilterns Firehouse. Harry looks pale and sickly, eyes glazed in a dazed state of having had too much alcohol. Nick buys a ticket to the Netherlands and writes a short and precise text demanding tickets to Sunday's match. 

Harry calls almost instantly after that, already back at the club (Nick can hear the sound of men yelling in the background and the sound of heavy dunks from the machines nearby) and they have the most polite and formal conversation they've ever had. Harry still can't play, but he's still required to be present during home games, which for a footballer is like holding candy out of the reach of a five year-old. They are required to be visible for the enjoyment of sponsors and listen to people wondering why they didn't score that goal or how that injury possibly got reopened. 

Harry's cruciate ligament injury is a slow and grueling injury that will annoy him for the rest of his career and will have potential buyers unsure of his future usefulness. Just because Nick understands why he was angry, it doesn't mean he should take the brunt of it. He didn't in his wildest dreams think that they would have to be separated for nearly a month before Harry got that their relationship had almost completely fallen apart and it's only some sort of loyalty to a memory that keeps Nick hoping. 

He arrives at the airport a little after midnight with his computer bag slung over one shoulder and not much else. Harry's is waiting outside Arrivals, wearing tracks, a comfy jumper and beanie over newly shortened curls. He seems to be completely off the crutches now, having apparently driven to the airport by himself. He's leaning against the closed-off area that's only for newly arrived travelers, favouring his bad foot while tapping away on his phone. 

Nick stares for a moment undisturbed and notices the pair of blokes trying, and failing, to look like they've not just seen their idol. Then he continues forward and stops in front of a man who he loved when he was still prone to bursts of teenage sourness. Harry's not a boy anymore, his shoulders the broadest they have ever been and his face more taut and marked. It's still the same person Nick fell in love with. 

Harry looks unsure and uncomfortable when he finally spots Nick. They lock eyes for a short moment before he looks down again. Nick sighs and together they slowly make their way back towards Harry's little energy-saving car that one of his sponsors has insisted he drive. Since neither Harry or Nick are little people it's wholly interesting that their limps even fit. Harry walks slowly and unsure, probably tiredness from today's training and it ends with Nick supporting most of Harry's weight. 

"I'm sorry," Harry mutters after they're sat in the car. 

"Yeah," Nick says and they descend into silence again. 

Harry has a four-bedroom apartment in a gated community, keeping out the crazed football fans, on the sixth floor. There is an elevator fortunately. He's been living alone for the most part, mostly to keep some privacy around Nick and what they do behind closed doors. It's clear someone else is living there now in the spare room that Nick 'uses'. 

"This is Jeff Azoff, our newest midfielder from America," Harry says about the bloke sitting in front of the telly playing Skyrim. 

The game is paused and Jeff gets up to shake Nick's hand in that very American way that both completely amazes but also sometimes annoys him. 

"It's good to meet you, Nick," Jeff says, "I've heard a lot about you." 

"He knows I'm... That you're my..." Harry stumbles and wrings his hands. "He just knows." 

Nick breathes out a 'thank god', thankful all of a sudden that he doesn't have to pretend anything. He can count on one hand how many people Harry has told on his own vocation and while necessary, not a very solid way to have a relationship. 

"It's nice to meet you," Nick says truthfully. 

Jeff seems to understand that he's not really wanted and he goes back to his game while putting on heavy earphones. 

Nick follows Harry into his room, knowing there will be both a toothbrush and all the other necessities Nick usually uses while visiting. They will sleep in the same bed tonight and Nick will go back to his cold and very lonely bed again tomorrow. 

He remembers the awkward silences of their beginnings, the charged silences after a particularly long stretch of long-distance and the comfortable silences of knowing each other. This silence now is a completely different silence to anything he's ever experienced. Harry looks devastated, nervously tracking one or two steps behind everything Nick does. He walks awkwardly and it's not until Nick demands that he sits down that he finally settles. 

"I've never felt this way before," Harry says and his voice is so low that probably only Nick could hear it. 

"Me neither," Nick admits. 

"Where are you living now?" 

Nick never told him and it's a secret that he's kept mostly under wraps for their shared friends. "It's just a temporary thing," he says. "It's not like Alexa's using her apartment anyway." 

"It's your house, Nick," Harry says. 

"Not without you," Nick mutters honestly around the painful sensation in his throat. He sits down beside Harry on the bed, dressed only in pants and a t-shirt which is double what he usually wears, and tries to find a comfortable enough position beside someone he once felt close to. Harry pulls him further down until he's lying on his back and Harry spooned into his side, head popped onto his shoulder with his other hand clenched around Nick's elbow. 

They breathe together and Nick feels like maybe he did something right. 

\-- 

Nick sleeps late and wakes up to the footballers' regular carb intake on match day. Pre-match rituals are an important part to any football player. Whether it be superstition, nerves or simply remembering to drink the right amount of water it's all part of what happens on Sunday night. 

Jeff chats with Nick like they've known each other forever and it doesn't bother Nick one bit as he is prone to do it himself. Harry is silent while he goes through his mobility exercises, but it feels a bit odd. Nick had woken with Harry absently running his hands through Nick's hair, staring at his face with a strange expression like he's contemplating something. 

They drive to Nick's favourite spot in the city and have coffees while they make small talk about Gemma, the lads from Arsenal and what Harry's missed on Corrie. None of it is serious and about what they really should be talking about. Harry seems hesitant to bring the issue up and Nick can't shake the feeling that whatever is going to be said isn't going to be good. 

They make it through the day and the match and Nick is almost on his way back to the airport when Harry takes Nick's computer bag and puts it away. He gives Nick a long look and steps forward so Nick can feel his body heat. They kiss slowly and tenderly, feeling each other, Nick gripping Harry's hand so tight his knuckles turns white. 

"I slept with someone else," Harry says when they finally part. 

Nick's iron-tight grip on Harry's hand turns tighter and he grips Harry's shirt just so his legs won't bugle under weight. He's never felt such a crippling bout of jealousy in his life. "How could you?" He mutters angrily and pushes Harry backwards against the wall. 

"You didn't come back," Harry replies and he looks so incredibly sad. "It didn't feel right and I knew the moment it happened that I shouldn't have done it." 

"So it's my fault?" Nick shouts angrily. 

"No, but I always want to be honest with you," Harry says. "So, this is me... Being honest." 

Nick buries his head in Harry's shoulder, fingers still clenched in clothes, and he cries. 

\-- 

Nothing feels right anymore. He's not seen Harry in two months now. He's stopped watching football and almost moved into a new smaller flat. He goes out more now that nothing stops him from drinking. He leaves calls from Anne unanswered and says no to covering Zayn Malik's engagement party with girl-bander Perrie from Little Mix. He goes to Miami for two weeks for no other reason than to get drunk. 

Finchy worries like a mother hen and Aimee leaves Ian behind to stay with Nick for days. 

Nick is no longer the boyfriend of someone, even though they could tell absolutely no one. Nick Grimshaw is single. He used to love being single but now that he's had what he wanted he doesn't like it anymore. 

Billy is young and fit and beautifully out and proud. He goes with Nick to cocktail parties and holds hands with him in public. He doesn't live in a different country and as far as Nick knows he isn't sleeping with someone else or particularly wants to. 

Once they meet Louis and his model girlfriend Eleanor at a function and Nick spends the entire night fidgeting until Louis corners him in the men's and tells him that Harry is good but miserable. 

"Just like you," Louis parts with and leaves the function entirely. 

Nick gets a dog and calls it Puppy Power Forever. He's coping just fine, no matter what Louis Tomlinson says. 

\-- 

Nick and Billy tracks up north for Pete's birthday with Puppy staying in London with best dog pal Thurston and Momma Aimee. He's gotten weirdly dependent on the little thing and it actually physically pains him to leave his little girl behind. 

Billy promises they can FaceTime Aimee for a full PuppyUpdate later. 

Just as they round the last corner near his parents' street in Oldham, Nick gets an uneasy feeling in his stomach that he finally centres to the Range Rover parked in the Grimshaw driveway just in front of Andrew's car. 

He feels his heartbeat pick up, but bravely puts on his best face. Billy's knows something is wrong anyway. 

The entire family is here yet Nick's entire focus is on the suddenly highly awkward Harry Styles sitting with a cuppa beside Olive. They've been fast friends since they met and Nick knows that Harry's been lost to more people than himself. But Harry is here in his parents' home sipping his mum's tea like he's still the son-in-law. 

"He just came by to wish me a happy birthday," Pete says when they've hugged. 

Nick just hums and tries to muster up some feeling other than the deep feeling of betrayal still sitting in the pit of his stomach. Instead, he introduces Billy to his mum and tries not to notice Harry's stormy expression, his stiff shoulders and his completely halted conversation with Olive. 

They manage to be civil to each other and make absolutely no conversation whatsoever and it's mostly all right, except for how Billy can instantly feel something is off about Harry. 

It's not until the pudding has been put on the table and Pete is opening presents that it all goes pear-shaped. 

"I hope you like it," Harry says as he hands over a paper bag with black paper sticking out of it. 

Pete looks all excited and pulls out a yellow jersey with the number 17 and 'Styles' written on the back. 

"I signed with them two days ago," Harry says and finally Nick recognises the Dortmund logo. "It's the first shirt they have produced. I had the entire team sign it." 

Pete's eyes a red-rimmed. "I'm so happy for you, son," he says and Nick knows what it means to him, why it's so special. 

That Harry would do something like that without care for awkwardness and potentially mean family members... 

"Get out," he whispers and he's almost surprised he even got it out. He says it again louder until he's got the entire table's attention. 

"Please, don't do this," Harry says back. 

"Get out," he repeats again. 

"I think I get to say what goes in my own house, Nicholas," Pete says. 

"Not about this," Nick says harshly. 

"I didn't come here for you," Harry says. "Please don't -" 

"I'll tell you exactly how this goes, Harry," Nick says. "You will leave my family alone and you will not bring anymore of your bloody presents." 

They are both standing up, facing each other, and Nick can feel the familiar spikes of desire floating between them. 

"I'll come out," Harry says. 

"No, you bloody well won't," Nick tells him angrily. 

"I promise you I will!" 

"I won't let you." 

"What does it matter? You'll get what you wanted." 

"And ruin your career... I could never want that," Nick says and they're saying all the things they should have said back in the Netherlands. "I love you with everything in me but I will never be the thing you hate most about yourself." 

Harry looks almost shocked, like he doesn't remember lying in bed high on pain-killers screaming at Nick. He looks like he hasn't even considered the possibility. 

Nick sits back down. 

Harry remains standing, looming over the occupants of the table, eyes fused with Nick's. They say 'I love you' and 'I miss you' and 'I want you back'. Unfortunately, they don't have a look for breaking up is a final fucking thing and it really fucking hurts. 

He leaves then, eyes red and angry and leaves Nick feeling an even bigger arsehole than before. 

"Well done, then, ruining your father’s party," Eileen says and Nick can’t handle her disappointment. "I don’t appreciate it. Think of all he’s had to do to get the time off to come here." 

"It’s never been our relationship, Eileen," Pete says. "We all miss Harry, but I understand." 

"You mustn’t think it came easy for me," Nick tells his father. "I have to do what is right for us both." 

Pete is a wonderful human being and though they’ve often not gotten along, Pete has never judged or looked down on Nick’s way of life. He may not understand and sometimes think Nick is a bit full of himself. Nick looks at him right at that moment and his dad understands. 

"I don’t want to feel like this anymore," Nick whispers to Billy when they’ve sneaked upstairs – Billy who is good and kind and doesn’t hate Nick for having a shouting match with his ex-boyfriend. "I have to start rebuilding my entire life around the fact that we’re not dating anymore. And it’s so hard." 

"How long were you together?" Billy asks softly and understanding. 

Nick tells him three years and how they first got together, Harry so young and talented and Nick who couldn’t keep away. "He gave me everything, except the basic foundation for a good relationship," Nick says and he cries. "You are the first boyfriend who ever held my hand in public." 

\-- 

Harry makes a triumphant return to the pitch, becoming a full-out hero. He’s always been good, but he’s better now. Dortmund changes his position slightly on the pitch and it’s like he finally reaches his full potential. He seems fully committed and secures England’s participation in the World Cup with much fanfare. It even hurts less to watch his games now that they’ve finally severed contact and both fully understand where they stand with each other. They don’t have the stress of thinking about each other all the time or not being completely sure if it is over or not. 

Once Billy got over the whole Nick used to date Harry Styles thing, which admittedly took a bit of time, he’s stuck firmly by Nick. They work like peas in a pod, though Nick isn’t completely used to having a boyfriend living in the same city all the time. It’s still nice. They have routines now that involve having coffee with Aimee and Collette every Thursday afternoon and Sunday date night. 

That Christmas, Anne sends him a card, congratulating him on his new job at MTV UK, which had recently become an official thing. It’s not a job he would ever have considered accepting with Harry still around, but it’s a job he’s sort of always wanted. He likes attention and having people stop him on the street for a chat about what he does. For two months, cameras will follow his other primary jobs writing for Elle and Vogue, while also following the lives of Henry and Collette who has been part of the London Elite for as long as Nick. It’s going to be interesting and maybe a bit intrusive, but Nick has always needed to be so private and walled-off to protect Harry’s career. It’s not an issue anymore. 

The Christmas card is not even weird and he sends a ‘thank-you’ text and puts it up beside the one from Alexa with much care and love. 

With MTV, his freelance writing, his hectic social life, a committed relationship and a dog, he’s completely managed to close up any gaping moments in his life where he can sit down and think for two consecutive minutes. He tries not to let it bother him that he never needed the same amount of distraction while football was in season before. It’s the new Nick and he wants whatever he can get. 

Harry’s been to visit during the Christmas break, Eileen guiltily reveals when Pete is distracted elsewhere. Anne was around, too, and apparently they all had a nice tea with biscuits before leaving with hugs and love. Billy’s family has been around to visits the elder Grimshaws, but it’s still very much clear that there is a person they would prefer Nick coming around for Christmas with and it’s not him. Nick knows Billy tries not to be bothered about it, but he knows it must hurt that he’s not accepted or welcomed the same way Harry would. 

\-- 

It’s unfortunate really that Billy’s finally decided enough is enough when MTV’s been following Nick for two months and they’ve only got about a week or so to film yet. They catch all of it on tape; Billy sitting Nick down for a romantic dinner, getting rid of all their friends, and giving Nick the ultimatum. 

Moving forward or end it here. 

Nick feels his face freeze, his palms starts to sweat and an uncomfortable feeling starts up in his chest. "I’m not…" he says, but Billy interrupts him. 

"I know you still love him," he says and they both know who they are talking about. "I know it’s never going to work between you two and I want you to understand that I want you." 

The choice is easy; move in together and take a step forward – or don’t and Nick will be alone again. 

Nick does what he does best and talks himself out of having to give an answer straight away. The camera sees his distraction, his night out with the girls and his massive pathetic hangover. Billy is patient, God bless, but it won’t last forever. Nick has to give him an honest answer at some point and it’ll be somewhat final. So, he books a plane to the airport closest to Dortmund and crosses his fingers that Harry hasn’t gallivanted off to Munich or something the like. 

There is an expensive coffee shop outside the arrivals gate and he stares at his latte for half an hour before gathering up the courage to call. 

"ello?" Harry answers after two rings and his voice sounds morning rough and beautiful as always. 

"It’s me," Nick mumbles nervously and fiddles with the shredded piece of paper that was once his boarding pass. 

"Yeah, I saw," Harry says after a long moment. He sounds as hesitant as Nick feels and at least they are still somewhat at the same level of not knowing what etiquette to use when talking to one’s ex. 

"I thought – if you’ve got naught else planned – you’d come see me," Nick says and he feels pathetic. He’s grasping for straws just to see if Harry would. 

"Grim," Harry says and he sounds pained. 

"Because I’m sitting at the airport feeling a bit stupid and maybe a bit mental," he keeps on. "I found an address where you usually practice, but it might be a bit much if I just showed up there. I don’t even know when you practice." 

Harry shows up half an hour later in a blacked-out Mercedes-Benz. He’s still in his training clothes, mud clinging to his socks and a sort of sour stench that can only come from sweaty boy. He’s grown his hair and has once again grown tauter in the face and he’s even more physically complete than before. He looks at the prime of his youth, completely fit for the grueling amount of work he does every day. 

He’s fucking fit, is the first thing Nick can even comprehend upon it being almost a year and half since the shouting match in the Grimshaw living room. He’s as attractive as ever. It’s not exactly thoughts he should be thinking when he’s technically dating someone else. He has got eyes though and so does other people, so Harry guides Nick into his car and they’re speeding out of the airport pick-up zone. 

He’s just met with silence in the car, angry and confused silence that frays his nerves and makes him want to flee back to London and hide. He’s fled from London though and coming here just to run back to the original problem might be a bit counterproductive. 

"Billy wants me to move in with him," he finally gets out and there is the crux of the problem. 

In early 2013, Harry Styles bought a house in Hampstead Heath to the dashing amount of £3 million, an investment that both Robin and Des dubbed smart and insightful. Harry shrugged, promptly decided he hated living alone and gifted it to Nick so he could ‘house-sit’ when Harry was off playing football. Nick spent months and more money than he could afford to make it into a home. When Nick thinks of home, he doesn’t think of the small three-bedroom apartment in Primrose, but the high-ceilinged and lovingly decorated house in Hampstead. For him, Primrose always felt a bit temporary, but not in the way that leaving it and finding a new place with Billy means. 

Harry’s house sits abandoned while he lives elsewhere. When he’s back in London, he stays with his agent Ben Winston or Louis, who has just transferred back to Arsenal after a whooping three season at Doncaster Rovers. It’s sad. 

"Are you having a bit of crisis over it?" Harry says and suddenly he sounds amused. 

Nick breathes out in relief. "You’ve got no idea. What am I supposed with a new house and everything?" 

"Live in it?" Harry says sarcastically, but Nick can see the grin on his lips. 

"Hey, don’t try to be funny," Nick says. 

Harry is outright laughing now. "Grimmy, you’ve hopped on a plane to Germany to talk it through with your ex – all because you’re not quite sure if you should be moving in with your boyfriend or not. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry at the implication." 

"I don’t know either," Nick says honestly and they both sober up. 

\-- 

There is a picture hidden in Harry’s room among others showing his closest family and friends. It’s a spattering of moments, sometime caught on Instagram-like circumstances or others posed at family events. It’s a picture of Nicholas Peter Grimshaw being hopelessly in love and it being plain on his face as he stares at Harry cuddled under his arm. It looks like a pair of mates at a party. It’s not though and Nick remembers exactly when it was taken. It feels weird seeing the expression on his face, knowing what it means and suddenly remembering what he felt in that moment. 

Harry is bare-chested when he comes out of the shower and Nick’s eyes are drawn to the birdcage when he puts on deodorant. 

"Do you hate me for leaving when I did?" Nick asks, hands nervously running over Harry’s vast collection of shoes. 

"Yes," Harry replies. He gives Nick a questioning look before continuing on with post-shower routine, one Nick has watched him do a thousand times. "I hate you for a lot of things." 

"Tell me," Nick says and sits down on the bed. It’s unmade, but the sheets are nice and something only Harry would have picked. 

Harry doesn’t answer for quite some time. When he finally does, he’s sitting down beside Nick on bed, fiddling with his wet hair. "I used to have this dream of us sitting on a beach on Ibiza or something, somewhere were the paps are always snapping people being cozy with their loved ones. And I would take your hand," he says and takes Nick’s hand. "And it wouldn’t be something bad or historical or groundbreaking. It would just be one of those regular pieces on footy player Harry Styles taking his boyfriend on vacation on the Daily Mail website, not even noteworthy enough to be on the front page of the magazine. Now I’m just alone. I’ve never been in better shape or done better. England is flying out to Brazil next Thursday for the World Cup and I’m on that plane. Professionally, I’ve reached above everything I could ever have imagined. 

"The last person I had sex with was a girl because I’m too fucking scared to even try finding a bloke," he continues and his voice is croaky and strained. "I didn’t feel anything good afterwards - mostly just disgusting. Mum says it’ll get better, that I’ll get over you and I’ll someone else who will make me just as happy and like I’ve achieved something truly spectacular. Making you smile and laugh is the most euphoric thing I’ve ever done and I play one of the most emotional games in the world. I mostly hate you for taking those things away from me." 

Nick pulls Harry down so he’s lying in the crook of his arm. "I miss you, too," he whispers. 

The next morning, he wakes up by the angry sound coming from his phone. He startles awake, his right arm dead from where it’s stuck somewhere under Harry. He fumbles around in the bed where he placed it last night and finds it in the end. He then gets yelled at for leaving the country while shooting by an MTV assistant producer. 

"Look, this is private," he finally replies annoyed and rolls his eyes at a groggy-looking Harry. 

"You’re making reality TV, Mr. Grimshaw," the assistant producer says acidly. "Nothing is private. And it’s a breach of contract. We’ll be expecting you back in less than twenty-four hours." 

"All right, don’t get mean," Nick says. "I get it." 

"I sure hope you do." 

Nick stares at the offending phone, before throwing it back the same place he found it, but not before putting it on silent. Harry’s cuddled back into his side, eyes fluttering sleepily and a large bony hand curling around Nick’s waist like it belongs there. There is something right about it that Nick has missed. Even though he fancies everything about Billy and maybe even loves him in a certain way, he can’t deny that no one has made him feel quite as happy as Harry. 

"Would you take me back if I begged?" Harry whispers into the otherwise silent room and traces one hand down Nick’s sternum to rest at the waistband of his pants. "I know you fancy me still." 

Nick shivers under his touch, but remains otherwise still. Harry props himself up on one arm and moves his hand further down until Nick’s breath is coming out faster and ragged. 

"My reasons still stand," Nick gets out. 

"I know, but I need you in whatever way I can get," Harry says and leans down to nose at Nick’s ear. "Just in whatever way… please, love." 

Nick suddenly gets over himself and pushes Harry away, before springing as far away from the bed as possible and bumping into the wall. "You said you were with someone else, back when… then, back then. You said you never bothered with another bloke. Who did you sleep with back when I left the first time?" 

Harry looks confused. "What?" he says. "Are you serious?" 

"Answer me!" Nick almost shouts. 

"I wasn’t with anybody. It was a lie," Harry says. "I just wanted you to hurt the way you hurt me." 

"You lied," Nick says to himself more than the lying scumbag sitting up half-naked on the bed. "You said you didn’t lie." 

"What does it even matter anymore? You’ve found plenty of reason to still stay away," Harry finally shouts and he’s never shouted at Nick, not while sober and without any painkilling drugs peeling away his walls. 

"Yes, but we could have worked through all of it together," Nick tells him. "I would have stayed if you hadn’t told me that." 

"Don’t say that," Harry says desperately. "Don’t make all of it unnecessary and don’t make the reasons less than what they are." 

"You’re really contradicting yourself here, darling." 

They are standing face-to-face, chests heaving and the room feeling like it’s suddenly gone up a few degrees. 

"Listen to us," Harry says. "We go over the same argument over and over again. It’s always the reasons why we can’t be happy. What about the reasons we were happy? What about that feeling of knowing something nobody else knows or that something inside my chest that comes to life every time you wake up beside me? Those are the reasons I still love you and why I’ll continue to have the same argument for the rest of my life." 

"But…" Nick tries. 

"I can’t be Billy, but I can be your Harry." 

Their argument seems dead after that. Harry is right and has laid absolutely everything on the table. He’s not promised anything, but he did at Pete’s birthday and every time he picks up the phone when Nick calls or writes. Nick came to Germany because something didn’t feel quite right with his relationship with Billy (and never has to be honest), and he found exactly what he is looking for. He found Harry, still strong and determined, just as in love with him as ever wanting to give him the world at the risk of all he held dear. 

Nick would never ever ruin Harry’s career, but maybe someday it would be different or the timing would feel right. Someday feels better than never or maybe. 

\-- 

MTV captures his break-up with Billy in a way that will haunt him forever. Billy looks resigned, but also like a weight has been shifted off his shoulders and Nick realizes that he’s held Billy back from being happy because he hasn’t been happy himself. He almost can’t believe he would do something so mean without even knowing it and he apologizes profusely. 

The assistant producer that shouted at Nick over the phone gives him a suspicious look, but Nick brushes her off before heading out to see Aimee and Pix for a night of post-break-up debauchery. 

Harry’s season ends just as Puppy’s health starts to deteriorate and he drives Nick to the vet as Puppy lies whimpering in his arms. It’s terrible and horrible and all the other awful adjectives Nick can think off, but at least she’s at peace when they bury her in Harry’s garden. She would have loved Harry’s garden and Nick can think of no better place for her.  
Brazil looms over everything, but it’s not the separation or the anxiety of them falling apart again. It’s just nerves mostly and Nick starts to suffer horribly from second-hand anxiety which Finchy the Editor picks up on. 

"It’s like you’re back with Styles or something," Finchy mutters very softly at Nick’s sometime desk at Elle. 

Nick gives him a guilty look and Finchy promptly assigns him an article called: 'Reasons Football Should Be on Your Watchlist This Summer', featuring quotes from five people whose career he has followed rapidly since meeting Harry way back when. Common media tells the story of four lads from all over the country (and Niall from Ireland) who became the backbone of the English National Team. There is Louis and Liam, the backbone and defensive line England has missed. Niall whose knee had left him nearly crippled before putting his active career on hold and threw himself into Sports Medicine to stay with his lads. Zayn, part-time model but mostly a terribly good midfielder, and Harry’s understanding of each on the field is legendary and what many has foretold their chance to take the trophy. 

The article doesn’t go unnoticed by their families and Nick can’t help tweet a picture of himself wearing Harry’s national jersey to the nation. They are not anywhere close to getting back together, but Nick has - for the first time since their break-up - a good feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

\-- 

 

Epilogue 

-  
"Why do you want to be in Arsenal, Harry?" Paul Higgins asks, ever the fatherly figure that Harry remembers from his early youth. 

"Because it’s my home," he replies honestly. "This is the club that gave me a chance and who believed in me. It will always have a special place in my heart." 

"Of course," Paul says warmly. "This meeting is a formality since all parts have agreed. Is there something you would like to say?" 

Harry rubs the Things I Can tattoo absently and makes himself be strong - for him and most of all for Nick. "I hope it doesn’t change anything, but I feel it’s important for all involved that I’m honest to myself and to you." 

Paul motions for him to continue and Ben nods at him in encouragement. 

"I’m gay," Harry says and his voice is strong and sure. "I’m in a steady relationship with another man. We’re not saying we are going public or anything, but I just want to say that it might be a possibility in the future and I would rather be in a club that knows. I feel it’s best for me and for the community in general." 

Paul doesn’t look surprised in the slightest, which is a bit unnerving. "Is it that Grimshaw fella? He’s nice," he says. 

Several of the other very important people sitting in on the meeting are nodding in agreement. 

"Haz, if you spent half as much time practicing your juggling skills as you did your ogling skills at camp way back when you were a skinny little boy, I might’ve been surprised. As it is I’ve always liked Grimshaw. He seems a decent fella and if he doesn’t cause trouble we’re not about to go out and crucify you both," Paul says in that steady authority of his. "Thank you for telling me." 

Harry signs the contract and grins at the little tattoo on his wrist that shows the World Cup trophy. 

"To the rest of your life, Harry Styles," Nick shouts at the top of his lungs, gloriously naked in their living room in Hampstead Heath. Harry grins and chases after him. 

\-- 

End (August 19th, 2014)

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this story started its humble beginnings during the final rounds of the world cup as i watched it in Spain on vacation. The rest was partly written in a car on my way home from Berlin and the rest in the middle of the night listening to Sia. I never set out to change the world in this story, i only wanted to tell a story in a universe that is close to my heart. I left the end open to interpretation. 
> 
> My willingness to finish this and make it into more than 3000 words of nothing comes from my beautiful coworker who is just as football-crazed as i am and continues to think i'm worth befriending.


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